


A Welcome Distraction

by minuted (orphan_account)



Series: halcyon days [1]
Category: 18th Century CE RPF, American Revolution RPF, Turn (TV 2014)
Genre: M/M, anyways first thing im publishing on here so, god i've had this in my drafts for WEEKS, just two gay idiots procrastinating on work, oh and kissing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-03
Updated: 2017-09-03
Packaged: 2018-12-23 03:48:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,693
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11981499
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/minuted
Summary: “Don’t tell me you’re actually being productive, for once,” Nathan Hale says, righting himself and meandering over to the bed besides the desk where the ink on Ben’s essay is drying.“Well,” says Benjamin Tallmadge, a smile spreading across his face as he meets Nathan’s easy gaze, “it was bound to happen at some point.”(or: Ben has an essay to write. Nathan is having none of it.)





	A Welcome Distraction

**Author's Note:**

  * For [fearless_seas](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fearless_seas/gifts).



“Ben.”

He looks up with a start, almost knocking over his inkwell - on the essay he’s been working on for the past two hours, no less. For a moment, he’s positive that he’s hearing things, until he sees a flicker of motion out of the corner of his eye.

Leaning casually against the doorway is Nathan Hale, his expression curious and light. There’s a smirk on his face.

“Don’t tell me you’re actually being _productive_ , for once,” Nathan says, righting himself and meandering over to the bed besides the desk where the ink on Ben’s essay is drying.

“Well,” says Benjamin Tallmadge, a smile spreading across his face as he meets Nathan’s easy gaze, “it was bound to happen at some point.” That coaxes a laugh out of Nathan, but Ben’s smile fades as he looks back down at his work. 

He doesn’t see Nathan move until the paper is swiped from his desk, and he hears the bedsprings sigh as his friend collapses on them.

“What is this for?”

“Rhetoric,” replies Ben, turning around completely on his stool so he faces Nathan. “I need it done by week’s end.”

“Week’s end!” Nathan exclaims, looking thoroughly perplexed. “But it’s only Monday!”

Ben reaches over and plucks the sheet out of his friend’s lithe hands. “I’m aware, but better to have it done in advance. And we still need to prepare for next week’s debate, do you recall?”

Nathan rolls his eyes. “And need I remind you that all of this is _next week_?” 

“Don’t you have anything to do?”

“Nothing urgent - and I know you have nothing of the sort either.”

Not deigning to repeat his earlier reasoning, Ben instead dips his quill into his inkwell and begins to write again. He hears a muffled _hmph!_ behind him, and allows a small smile. Nathan’s never been one to keep still, and it’s almost surprising that Nathan had been allowed into Yale only two years prior, at fourteen.

Well. Actually it’s not surprising at all, considering the fact that for his age - and maybe regardless of the fact - Nathan’s completely brilliant, more so than anyone Ben knows. But that’s besides the point.

“Come outside with me.” Brilliant, but restless.

“I’d like to finish this, Nathan.”

“ _Benny_ ,” and Ben can almost see the childish pout that’s surely playing across his friend’s face. He shakes his head as another reluctant grin finds him. 

“Ben. Ben. Benjamin Tallmadge. Benjamin - what's your middle name?”

“Why, pray tell, would I tell you that?”

After what seems to be a minute or so, he feels a light tap on his shoulder. He whips around, startled, but Nathan appears to be laying down, his gaze elsewhere.

He has never been good at this game, though, and so his gaze twitches back to Ben after a moment, and he lets out an almost unconscious - and quite frankly, ridiculously high-pitched - giggle.

“At least try to pretend it wasn’t you,” says Ben, rolling his eyes good-naturedly, before looking back down.

The sound of a quill in motion drowns out the silence of the room for a while, and Ben almost forgets about his bored roommate until - 

Two hands, perched delicately on his shoulders. Ben drops his quill.

“Nathan, what -”

“How long is this _damned essay_?” Nathan’s teasing tone belies the impatience of his words.

“Is there something more important you’d prefer to do?” asks Ben, tilting his head so he can make out a smirking Nathan, standing behind him.

And then the hands are gone, and - _god_ \- Nathan decides to nestle his face in the crook of Ben’s neck.

“Yes,” he mutters, and Ben can feel Nathan’s breath ghost along his skin. A sudden rush of heat floods Ben, and he realizes that he’s blushing.

“Such as?” asks Ben - it’s an innocuous question, to be sure, but his tone is anything but, and it’s all he can do to keep his voice steady.

“Well,” says Nathan, his voice maddeningly low, “we could find Enoch -” his hand curls around Ben’s waist; “or head to a tavern -” he perches himself on the tiny stool, so his body is flush against Ben’s; “or perhaps -” his voice breaks off as he tilts his head slightly so his lips brush against Ben’s neck. Were it not for the arm against his waist, Ben is certain he would fall off the stool. But there is an arm around his waist and Nathan’s dark blonde queue is tickling the back of his neck and that gives him the courage to mutter -

“Perhaps?” The essay is long-forgotten, now. 

He feels Nathan’s lips curve into a smile against him. “Perhaps we could find something more _enjoyable_ to do.”

There’s a hand at his cheek now, and Ben doesn’t resist the slight push as Nathan leans forward. Their lips meet. 

It’s light at first, just Nathan’s lips pressed gently against Ben’s, with his arms wrapped around Ben’s waist - reminiscent of a wispy breeze on a summer’s day. Ben in turn rests his arms on Nathan’s shoulders, and threads his fingers through his friend’s deftly braided hair, and he feels Nathan sigh against his lips. Then he feels Nathan’s tongue run lightly across his lower lip, and the breeze turns into a veritable hurricane.

And. Well. It's not the first time that Ben and Nathan have, well, _kissed_ \- they’d kissed once was when they'd gotten black-out drunk (all he remembers is Nathan brushing his lips across Ben’s while laughing hysterically), and once on Nathan’s cheek after the younger of the two had fallen out of a tree he'd been dared to climb, and the only other person in the vicinity (save Ben, of course) had gone to get help (Nathan had been fading out of consciousness, and all Ben could remember was a certain all-consuming fear).

But this - this is different. They're both alert, and there's something so tender about the way Nathan holds him that Ben doesn't think he'll ever quite forget. 

Admittedly with much difficulty, Ben pulls away from Nathan. 

“Ben, what -”

Holding up a finger to silence Nathan (and praying to any god that may be watching that his disproportionately rapid breathing and the frantic tempo of his heart against his chest goes unnoticed), Ben rises and deliberately makes for the open door. He hears Nathan get up from his meager portion of the stool and quickly follow Ben, his movements abrupt - almost like a spooked animal.

“I’m sorry!” With a jolt that he tries not to show, Ben notes that Nathan’s tone is desperate, almost scared. His friend takes a shaky breath, before continuing in a barely restrained voice, “That was improper and uncalled for, and I apologize.”

But instead of walking away, like Nathan appears to think he plans to do, Ben decisively shuts the door, and turns around. 

And _oh_ , Nathan - Nathan looks terrified. But whatever must be in Ben’s expression gives him pause.

“Ben?”

Trying - and most likely, failing - to keep his face inscrutable, Ben takes another step - this one towards his friend.

“You were right,” he whispers. “The essay can wait.”

That’s all it takes, really, for Ben to wrap his hands tightly around his friend’s slight waist, tug him closer, and crush his lips against Nathan’s.

Nathan is pressed flush against him again, his arms thrown around Ben’s neck, and desperation - albeit, now a completely different kind - in his every move. He feels warm as a fire, and kisses Ben so beautifully it ought to be illegal, with the way his fingers clumsily undo Ben’s queue and settle in his hair as though they belonged there all along, and how his lips move so sweetly along Ben’s neck before returning back to his parted lips. Experimentally, Ben nips at a spot below the base of Nathan's jawline, and is rewarded with a shuddering gasp and hands pulling him even closer, all gentleness forgone. Even considering Nathan's constant vibrance and humor and devil-may-care attitude - all things that Ben has grown to love - he could have never imagined how warm and frantic Nathan's hands would feel underneath his shirt. 

And Ben is kissing Nathan just as hungrily (if perhaps in a more clumsy manner) now pressed against the blessedly shut door and gripping Nathan like he needs him to survive. And it's true, in a way - he can't imagine life at Yale (or anywhere, really), without his Pythias, his closest friend whose hands are currently untucking Ben’s shirt and whose lips are pressed furiously against Ben’s. 

It's a while before a breathless Nathan, this time, pulls away. His gaze is trained at the ground, but there's a nervous - yet wide - smile gracing his face. A stray thought flits across Ben’s scattered mind - how has he never appreciated how lovely his friend looks, with his hair loose around his light frame (Ben represses a small smirk at the thought that it was he who had mussed Nathan's hair so) and sunlight from the window casting a golden halo around him? And Nathan looks up, almost shyly, and the blue _blue_ eyes he's seen for so long but never quite appreciated steal away his labored breath. 

“Hey,” Nathan mutters, still smiling.

Ben reaches out and tucks a stray strand of flaxen hair behind Nathan’s ear.

“Hey, yourself,” he says.

Nathan lets out a small, ridiculously _sweet_ laugh, before mirroring Ben and reaching down to brush some dark hair out of Ben’s face - only he doesn’t let go of the lock of hair, instead gently running it through his fingers.

It’s an interesting new dynamic, one that Ben could get used to. One that he’d love to get used to. He reaches up and brushes Nathan’s lips with his own again, feather-light, before pulling back. 

“Would you like to head outside?” he asks, still sharing the same air as Nathan. “I can bring our books -”

Nathan groans. “Would you have me do all that again?” 

Ben flushes. _Yes, he definitely would_. “Well then, we can sit by the lake or something, perhaps take a walk.”

Nathan raises an eyebrow. “Since when were you interested in nature?”

“It’s not nature I’m interested in,” Ben says, intertwining his hand with Nathan’s. “It’s you.”

**Author's Note:**

> yee tell me what you think, maybe?  
> also pls forgive me and inform me on historical inaccuracies - i've read that nathan was the more studious of the two (especially when they were starting out), but here they've been at yale for ~2 years, and i'm keeping it a bit more in line with ben's characterization in turn and...yeah? thanks for reading!
> 
> find me on tumblr at benjaminrush or howlingremus if you wanna yell about halemadge (or anything, really)


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